


Finding Storybrooke

by ShipsInTheKnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Curse, Babysitting, F/F, Swan Queen - Freeform, nanny - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4807625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipsInTheKnight/pseuds/ShipsInTheKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After serving the prison sentence from the stolen watches, Emma is a freed woman. On the day she is released, she finds a postcard, which mysteriously appears, from a small town called Storybrooke. Deciding to give this new place a try, Emma moves her whole life to the town and gets a job as a nanny to watch the mayor’s son. While working for the beautiful mayor, she starts developing feelings for the woman that she’s never had for anyone else in her entire life, including Neal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dance_of_pales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dance_of_pales/gifts).



**June 16, 1997**

_‘Today’s the day,’_ smiled the blonde as she finished changing into her street clothes.

Emma wore a loose-fitting Nirvana tank top that showed off her toned arms, a pair of ripped denim jeans, and brown combat boots. To finish her look off, she tied her favorite mustard yellow flannel shirt around her slim waist. Sure it was faded and had a hole in the pocket, but to her, it added character. She reached above her and made quick work, styling her hair in a loose ponytail and adorned her thick-framed glasses. Wearing her old clothes felt strange to the girl, having become used to the usual feeling of baggy polyester pants and plain white wife beaters.

Emma walked out of the changing room and approached the front desk where she was handed her discharge papers, the keys to her old bug, the swan keychain Neal had stolen for her, and a bus ticket. This was it. She was actually leaving this joint.

She strutted her way past two security doors then stopped abruptly in front of the main gates of the facility. Inhaling deeply, she took one step out into ‘civilization’.

 _‘One step for man,’_ she mused to herself, placing her foot dramatically on the concrete pavement. _‘One giant leap for Emma Swan.’_

The blonde’s attention was caught by her yellow bug that was waiting patiently in the lot for her arrival. She tightened her grip on the key in her hand and made her way over to the automobile.

When she had been back inside the facility, they had advised her check in with her supervisor once every 48 hours, so Emma decided to pay hers a visit.

The ride to their office was a blur to Emma. There was _too_ much for her to take in all at once, causing everything to blend together. What she did notice, however, was the quiet. During her stay in prison, she quickly realized that there was _never_ a dull moment. Whether it was yelling inmates, instructions blaring from the intercom systems, the commanding officer’s demands, keys turning or doors slamming; something was _always_ happening to disrupt the peace. The fact made it nearly impossible to find solitude.

When the blonde arrived at her desired office building, it really hit her that she was finally tasting freedom. Though she had only been in prison a year, with her being pregnant, it felt like a lifetime. Emma entered the building and immediately felt paranoid, worried by the thought of everyone around her knowing she had just been released and staring at her.

“What are you here for,” questioned a woman from across the room. Emma’s attention snapped to the woman, causing her to be knocked from her inner musings.

“They told me to give this to you,” Emma managed to let out, handing her file over to the woman. The lady gave the blonde a once over then flipped through the file’s contents, humming in approval. 

“I see,” began the woman. “Well, Miss Swan, it seems that you have everything you need in order.” The woman offered the blonde a smile, holding the file back out to the girl. “All you have to do is give us a call every 48 hours to let us know your whereabouts then we’ll be out of your hair.” Emma nodded in response. _'Seems easy enough.'_

“But let me warn you,” the woman began again, leaning into the blonde’s personal space. “If you fail to make contact with us, we will find you and track you down…and there _will_ be consequences.” The blonde gulped then nodded again, this time with more force. She backed away from the woman and left the building, her file in hand.

When she got back to her car, Emma noticed something attached to her windshield. She removed the item, which appeared to be a postcard, and examined it.

 _‘Storybrooke,’_ she read to herself. The blonde furrowed her brows then added, _‘That’s a weird name for a town.’_


	2. Chapter 2

The blonde had been driving all night and could now see the sun rising in the east. _‘How much longer,’_ she grumbled to herself. Her maps had failed her a long time ago and the only evidence of a ‘Storybrooke’ actually existing was the small slip of paper in Emma’s hand.

She was about to pull off on the side of the road, to call her supervisor again about the town’s whereabouts, but the sight before her stopped the woman in her tracks. It was small but it was very real. Emma’s yellow VW came to a slow stop as she neared a tiny, white sign that stated, ‘Welcome to Storybrooke’.

The blonde let out a sigh of relief and said, “Got you, bitch.”

 

When she entered the town, she passed by a bed and breakfast. Emma debated whether or not to get a room to catch up on sleep, but then remembered that she only had so much time before her 48 hours were up. She _needed_ to check in with her new advisor, who happened to be the mayor of the small town.

A small diner, called Granny’s, caught the blonde’s eye, so she decided to stop there instead. Emma parked her bug across the street from the joint and made her way over towards the entrance.

Entering the diner, the blonde was greeted by a bell chiming and a tall brunette, who obviously favored the color red. “Welcome to Granny’s,” the brunette woman greeted with a wide smile. Emma nodded at the woman and allowed herself to be guided to a booth. “What can I get for you?”

The blonde hesitated for a moment, not accustomed to being asked such questions, and responded, “Just coffee, thanks.” The brunette, whose nametag read ‘Ruby’, made her way to behind the diner counter and began to fill the blonde’s order.

When she returned, she held a tray containing: a full coffee pot, a mug, a small plate with little containers of cream on it, and a newspaper. Setting down the items, Ruby started to strike up a conversation with the blonde.

“You’re not from around here, are you,” she concluded, leaving no room for an answer before continuing, “Storybrooke’s a small town and it’s easy to get mixed up with all the drama here. Trust me, I know.” The woman flashed the blonde a look and Emma knew she was telling the truth. “So, I’m going to help you get to know people,” Ruby finished with a mega-watt smile.

The blonde furrowed her brows in response. “Why would you do that?” Growing up without a family and living in prison, Emma led herself into believing that everyone was all out for themselves, only offering to help if they could get something in return. So, yeah, she was skeptical of the brunette’s motives.

Ruby was taken aback by the blonde’s question. “Well, I heard about your arrival and I thought it’d be nice to have a friendly face around town.” Emma scanned the woman’s face, checking for any signs of deception, but found none. She was telling the truth. The blonde opened her mouth to thank the woman, but was interrupted by the sound of the diner door swinging open.

Her eyes were instantly met by a beautiful woman, who was struggling to balance a baby carrier while making her way through the door. To avoid being caught staring, which caused conflict while in prison, Emma diverted her attention to the coffee mug in her hands and pretended to read the newspaper.

Upon realizing what had captured the blonde’s attention, the waitress rushed to the kitchen window and whispered, “She’s here.” The woman, who had now seated herself at a neighboring booth to the blonde’s, was trying to calm her fussing child.

 _‘She must be new to the whole mother thing,’_ Emma mused to herself while taking another sip of her drink. She recalled a time in her childhood when she had been tasked with taking care of some of her younger foster siblings. Emma had learned many skills when it came to caring for newborns, and she felt compelled to share her knowledge with the distressed mother seated behind her. What kept her from doing so was the thought of the son she had birthed to while in prison. The idea of abandoning him, as her own family did to her, sent a pang of guilt coursing through the blonde’s chest. Emma pondered how old the boy would be this month, what milestones he would’ve achieved. She was knocked from her inner musings by the waitress returning to her table.

“Sorry,” apologized Ruby while flipping her hair out of her face. “Not a great way of starting out a friendship, huh,” she joked. “Anyway, is there anything else I can get you?” Emma smiled at the woman’s rushed demeanor and nodded, pointing toward a bear claw pastry, which was located on the cover of the diner’s menu.

Jotting down the item on her notepad, the waitress informed Emma that it’d be ‘right up’ and shuffled off towards the kitchen again. After the woman left, Emma glanced around the diner and noticed that there were many gazes turned towards her. Well, not her exactly, but the booth behind her. The baby was, once again, wailing. She could hear the woman muttering incoherent sentences under her breath and Emma knew that she _had_ to do something. If not for the baby or mother, then for her own sanity.

Leaving no room for herself to change her mind, Emma stood from her seat and quickly took the one across from the woman.

“Excuse me,” stated the brunette woman, seeming offended by the blonde’s action. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ignoring the woman’s stern gaze, Emma took one look at the child, confirming her assumptions, then informed the mother, “He needs to be burped.”

“I just burped him thirty minutes ago,” she answered coldly, turning her attention back to her son. The blonde rolled her eyes at the brunette’s standoffish behavior and countered, “Well, did anything happen when you did?” The woman froze at the blonde’s statement, indicating to Emma that she was right in her assumptions.

“That’s what I thought. Here, hand him over,” Emma said, holding her hands towards the baby. At the brunette’s distrustful expression, Emma added, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” That seemed to do the trick, at least enough for the woman to hand her child over to the blonde stranger.

When she had the child in her arms, Emma made quick work of getting him into the proper burping position. She had tossed a napkin over her shoulder to prevent getting spit up on her shirt and her instincts kicked in instantly. The brunette woman watched in awe as Emma calmed her fussy baby.

Once Emma felt that the kid was finished, she told him ‘good job’, awarding herself a small giggle from the child, then returned the boy to his mother. After he was placed safety in her arms, Emma returned to her table without another word, tossed some bills on the table and snagged her bear claw on her way out the door.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning had been rough for Regina, having been awoken by her son’s wailing and being unable to soothe the screaming child. When he finally did calm down, she made quick work of dressing him and getting them both ready for the day, then headed off to Granny’s for breakfast.

The car ride had lulled the child to sleep but the abrupt bump in the road had jolted baby Henry awake, scaring the child and causing him to erupt into tears, once again. Regina huffed to herself, willing her mind to make light of the situation, but was finding it challenging due to her lack of sleep.

After she arrived at the diner, she took her usual seat and placed her son’s carrier beside her in the booth. Not long after they had entered the establishment, the owner, Granny herself, paid their table a visit. Regina was grateful that by the time the woman had taken the seat across from hers, Henry had relaxed.

“How’s it going, Henry,” the elderly woman greeted, tickling the babies feet. Feeling relaxed by the woman’s presence, Regina allowed her shoulders to drop, a sign that the usually-regal woman was extremely burned out from exhaustion. Granny took notice of the brunette’s weary appearance. “Not easy, is it?” Without waiting for an answer, she added, “Took me four years to get used to Ruby’s schedule and let me tell you, she was _no_ walk in the park.” Regina attempted to chuckle at the woman’s jest but all that came out was a huff of air to accompany her slight shake of the head.

“It’s exhausting,” the mayor answered honestly. “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I’m overwhelmed _all_ the time.” She let her head fall dejectedly, averting her gaze to the tiled flooring. “I don’t know if I can do this…be a mother.” The grey haired woman offered the brunette a tight-lipped smile at her admission, showing sympathy towards the woman. Then she took the mayors hand in her own, forcing the woman’s eyes to meet her truthful gaze.

“If it were meant to be easy, everyone would do it,” spoke the woman wisely. “You, Regina, might appear cold and heartless on the outside, but I know the truth. You’ve helped me and Ruby _so_ much over the years and we can honestly say first hand that you hold the biggest heart we have ever known. You just need to let it guide you in all that you do.” Regina’s eyes were lined with unshed tears by the woman’s statement, having never heard the woman speak so highly of _anyone_ in all her years of knowing her. She nodded, wiping at a stray tear that trailed down her cheek, in response.

“Now, you know what _I_ think you should do,” the gray haired woman stated. At Regina’s questioning gaze, she spoke again. “Get a nanny.” Regina let out an amused chuckle, thinking the woman was making a joke, then, at the grandmother’s unchanging expression, her face stiffened.

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of my own child, thank you very much,” Regina quipped, her walls beginning to build back up. Holding her hands up in defense, the woman added. “Oh, I’m aware of it, but just because you _can_ do something by yourself, doesn’t mean you _should.”_ The brunette furrowed her brows in concentration, listening with interest. “There are people willing to help you, Regina. You just have to give them the chance.”

Wanting to hear no more of the woman’s speech, the brunette rolled her eyes, stating, “I’m done with this conversation.” Ignoring the older woman’s presence, Regina addressed the brunette waitress, “I need coffee, Ruby.” The girl nodded in response and got to working on it and Granny took the cue to leave, feeling disappointed by the woman’s reaction.

After the woman left the booth, Henry began to stir from his sleep. Regina didn’t notice the fact until it was too late, the boy wailing, once again, and all eyes were on _her._ The brunette began to mutter incoherent sentences to herself, trying to keep from screaming out on the onlookers to ‘mind their own damn businesses.’ Before she had the chance, a mysterious blonde woman sat herself, uninvited might I add, across from Regina.

“Excuse me,” stated the brunette woman, who felt offended by the blonde’s presence. “What do you think you’re doing?”

 _‘Great,’_ Regina mused to herself. _‘Is this going to be another lecture about the rules of ‘proper parenting?’_ Taking another look at the blonde, the mayor noticed that she was significantly younger than her first impression of the girl. Though young, the blonde had an air about her that Regina could relate to. She seemed like she had gone through a lot during her limited number of years. Regina couldn’t help but glare at the blonde, who was now staring at her child like a puzzle that needs solving.

“He needs to be burped,” the girl informed her. Taking offense to the blonde’s statement, which Regina interpreted as ‘you don’t take care of your child, so I’m going to point out all your mistakes’, the brunette retorted, “I just burped him thirty minutes ago.” For some strange reason, Regina felt compelled to justify herself to the blonde. Feeling overwhelmed by all that was occurring, the brunette averted her gaze back to her crying baby, trying to bounce him on her knee to soothe him.

“Well, did anything happen when you did,” the blonde countered. Regina froze on the spot, recalling that though she _did_ do what she was told, nothing was produced from the action. “That’s what I thought,” claimed the blonde, reaching out for the boy. “Here, hand him over.” Regina’s instincts told her otherwise, so she brought Henry closer to her chest, not trusting the blonde stranger.

Taking notice of her hesitation, the girl added, “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” The brunette eyed the blonde carefully while reluctantly placing Henry into the girl’s strong arms. For some reason, it didn’t scare Regina as much as she thought it would, which scared her even more.

The blonde seemed just as surprised as she was and made quick work of tending to her baby’s needs. When she was successful with her actions, the blonde awarded the boy a ‘good job’ and placed him carefully back into Regina’s arms. The brunette felt she should thank the girl for the assistance but then the blonde left, leaving behind a bewildered Regina in her wake.

Regina’s mind traveled back to what Granny had said earlier about getting a nanny. Maybe she was starting to reconsider her previous notions about the idea.


	4. Chapter 4

After leaving the diner, Emma made her way towards the town hall, wanting to get her little meeting with the mayor over with. When she arrived in the building, the woman’s secretary had instructed her to wait in the woman’s office. The blonde had taken a seat across from the mayor’s desk and waited for the woman’s arrival.

Twenty minutes passed and still there was no sign from the woman, which bothered Emma. In prison, things _always_ had to be on time, there were no excuses for being late for anything.If you were late, you got punished. Two more minutes went by, the blonde staring at the clock while picking at the lint from her clothes nervously. _‘Is this lady for real?’_ Just as the thought crossed her mind, the door opened, drawing the blonde’s attention away from the clock.

 _‘It’s her,’_ Emma mused to herself, gawking as the brunette woman strutted into the room.

“My apologies,” spoke the woman, letting out an exhausted sigh as she sat herself regally in her chair across from the blonde. “As I’m sure you are aware, my son, Henry, has been quite the handful this morning and didn’t want to be dropped off at daycare.” Emma nodded in understanding.

 “Am I correct in assuming you are Emma Swan,” the brunette deduced as she reached into her desk drawer, retrieving a file. Once again the blonde nodded. Realizing her error, the woman having not been looking in her direction, Emma voiced her answer, “That’s me.”

The mayor pursed her lips in contemplation, now reviewing the file on her desk. She hummed to herself, which caused a fluttering feeling from deep within the blonde’s stomach. “I see here that you spent some time in prison for,” the brunette prompted, suddenly confused. She had heard that the woman had scheduled a meeting with her, but she didn’t have a clue as to why.

 _‘I should’ve known better to trust my son with_ _a stranger,’_ she chided herself. She allowed her eyes to scan down the blonde’s thin frame. _‘Although,’_ she noted. _‘She doesn’t seem like a person who’d harm a child. She was great with Henry.’_ Her gaze was then drawn to the woman’s hands. _‘Her hands appear to be too soft to inflict pain…her hands,’_ she trailed off, her mind playing mental images of what the blonde’s hands could do. After bringing her tongue to lick her lips, Regina heard a loud cough emit from across the desk’s surface. Immediately, her head snapped towards the source as her face turned a shade of crimson from having been caught staring.

Shaking her head from her daydreams, the mayor spoke up once again. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch that, dear,” having remembered hearing the blonde’s voice in the corner of her mind. The blonde fought with herself not to roll her eyes at the lame statement, then repeated herself, “I was caught having possession of a stolen watch.” Emma studied the woman’s reaction, though she didn’t know why she cared so much about the mayor’s opinion of her. She _never_ cared what anyone thought, especially not after Neal. Emma felt a sharp pang of hurt in her chest, the old wounds the man left in her still fighting to heal, then the brunette nodded at the woman’s admission.

 _‘What is that supposed to mean,’_ wondered Emma, the brunette’s face unreadable.

“All your paperwork is here, so all you need to do is sign to confirm your transfer, Miss Swan.” The blonde shuttered from the woman speaking her name in such a dignified manner, then her face contorted in confusion. “Wait,” Emma began. “Transfer? What transfer?” The blonde started to feel her fight or flight instincts kicking in, the latter being on the top of her mind. She’s never been one to stay in a single place for too long, and if she’s going to be forced into staying in this small town for the rest of her probation, she might just go insane.

“You do plan to _stay,_ right? You’re not allowed to frolic around the countryside like a vagabond, Miss Swan,” the brunette enforced, raising a challenging eyebrow. “At least, not until _after_ your probation.”

 _‘I guess this is it,’_ the blonde concluded. Emma gulped then retrieved the pen from the mayor’s hand. “Right, of course,” she joked, though her statement lost all humor due to her blanched and serious expression. She signed the document then placed the pen lightly on the desk, signaling she was done.

Regina then placed the documents back into the file and returned it to its prior location. Emma watched as she felt her freedom being stripped from her, once again. She knew she was now stuck here. Returning to her seated position, the mayor folded her arms across the desk and addressed the blonde again, “Fantastic. Now all you need is to find a suitable living space and a stable income." The brunette smiled at the other woman’s blank stare.

“Wait, what,” Emma blurted out, not sure if she had heard the woman correctly. Ignoring the blonde’s question, the mayor continued. “Speaking of, you will be staying with Mary Margaret Blanchard for the time being.” Regina handed Emma a slip of paper with the location of the woman's apartment.

Furrowing her eyebrows at the sight of the paper in her hands, Emma asked, “Why would she want to take _me_ in,” not used to having people so willing to give without getting something greater in return. The thought caused a sense of skepticism from the blonde. “Does she know that I was in _prison?”_

Staring evenly at the woman across from her, the mayor responded, “Miss Swan, it’s best if you don’t ask questions. Miss Blanchard is well aware of your…situation.” This only increased the confusion within the blonde, causing the woman to furrow her eyebrows even further, if possible. “In fact,” Regina continued with a knowing smile. “The woman _volunteered_ to assist you.”

 _‘This woman must be_ insane,’thought the blonde. “Is she like some creepy ax murderer or something,” Emma interrupted. The mayor bit back a laugh at the accusation, surprising herself. She was quick to realize that she had not _truly_ laughed in a long time.

Shaking off the questions in her mind following the experience, she answered, “I assure you, Miss Swan. She is _farthest_ from the sort.” The brunette thought back to moments in the past where the woman annoyed her to no end. Oh, wait…that was just yesterday. Regina clenched her jaw and reassured the blonde, “The woman wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Emma nodded, taking in the information. The mayor was about to dismiss her but a hesitant knock from the door interrupted her plans. After a brief acknowledgement of the visitor’s presence, the door opened, displaying Regina’s, now frazzled, assistant holding Henry’s baby carrier.

The mayor rolled her eyes at the sight and stood abruptly from her seat, leaning her weight on her hands, which were propped against her desk. “Now what,” she snapped. The woman _loathed_ being interrupted.

“I’m sorry,” apologized the brunette assistant instantly. “Henry’s daycare called saying that he had a fever and it’s against the rules for them to keep him there,” she explained, shrinking into herself with every word.

“Do they know who I am,” she announced, throwing her hands in the air. Letting out an exaggerated huff of annoyance, Regina stormed over to the woman and snatched the carrier from her arm. “That will be all, Miss French,” she finished with finality. Knowing not to push the woman, Belle scurried out of the room, the door slamming firmly behind her. She flinched.

Turning back to the blonde, baby carrier in hand, Regina plastered on her best political smile. “Now, where were we?”


	5. Chapter 5

Making her way up the stairs to her new home, Emma groaned to herself, “Couldn’t this place have an elevator?” When she reached the forest green door to the woman’s apartment, she knocked lightly on the surface. After a few seconds with no answer, the blonde debated turning and leaving. That is, until she heard the sound of a deadbolt unlocking.

Swinging the door open, a pixie-haired woman fixed the blonde with a smile, having been informed of the girl’s arrival into town. Returning the gesture half-heartedly, Emma waved a small ‘hi’, then asked, “Are you Mary Margaret Blanchard,” reading the name off the slip of paper the mayor had given to her.

At the woman’s polite nod, Emma visibly relaxed as Mary Margaret opened the door wider, allowing the blonde entrance. Taking in the sight of the apartment, Emma felt as if it were a little too girly for her taste, not wanting to live in an Easter basket, but at least it was a place to stay.

Dropping her duffel bag of belongings onto the wooden floor, Emma turned towards the brunette. “So,” she drawled out. Not wanting to prolong the awkward silence, Mary Margaret quickly caught on, leading the blonde to the spare room upstairs.

“This will be your room,” the pixie-haired woman announced. Emma was in awe that the room was all hers, having never had a room to herself before. She smiled to the woman graciously then the brunette left without another word, leaving the blonde to unpack.

Deciding to wait to complete the task, Emma made her way over to her full-sized bed and sprawled out. Releasing a deep breath of air, she reveled in the feeling of having a space all her own.

 

Later that night, Emma busied herself by watching a movie their apartment’s small television, her roommate having gone out on a date. Mary Margaret had told the blonde how she’s been seeing this guy, named David. She really seemed to like him, Emma noted to herself. The girl’s mind traveled back to the mayor and her previous interaction with the woman earlier that day.

Before she could entertain the thought of the brunette further, the blonde was knocked from her daydreams by the apartment’s landline phone ringing. Furrowing her brows, she debated with herself on whether or not to answer it, not wanting to upset her kind roommate if she did. Although, it very well could be Mary Margaret needing something from Emma.

Instantly, the blonde snacked the phone from its holder, greeting the called with a weak, “Hello?”

“Miss Blanchard,” questioned the caller, who, Emma decided, was a woman. _‘Wait a minute,’_ she mused to herself, the voice sounding familiar to the blonde. _‘It’s the mayor! Oh, shit.’_ The girl began to run through every possibility as to why the woman would call _her_ so late in the day. _‘Oh, wait…it’s Mary Margaret’s phone, right.’_ The blonde mentally face-palmed herself at her blonde moment.

“Are you still there,” came the woman’s heavenly voice again. Emma fumbled with the phone, having been startled by the brunette’s voice after getting lost in another daydream. Bringing the device to her ear again, the blonde responded, “Yes, sorry, yes. I-I was just…distracted.” Emma shook her head at her lame excuse.

“Ah, Miss Swan,” hummed the brunette, causing a shiver to run up the blonde’s spine. “Just the person I was looking for.” Getting caught up in the fluttering feeling in her chest, due to the woman’s statement, Emma spoke without thinking. “Well, you found me.” She face-palmed herself, again.

Much to the blonde’s relief, Regina changed the subject. “Right, so…how was your first day in Storybrooke? I imagine you’ve seen it all, considering that there’s not much to begin with,” the brunette joked. Emma laughed in response, taking a seat on one of the kitchen’s barstools.

“Yeah, it was good. Much better than being locked in a cell all day, I can tell you that.” Instantly the blonde winced, frustrated with herself for bringing up the whole _prison_ thing. _‘Great going, Swan,’_ she chided herself. _‘Because_ everyone _loves prison bitches,’_ she finished with an eye roll.

“I actually called to ask you something, if you don’t mind,” began the mayor. Emma nodded in response, then realized her error and voiced her reply. “Sure, lay it on me.” Shaking her head at herself, she complained to herself, _‘God, why am I so awkward?’_

Once again sparing the blonde her embarrassment, Regina continued, “I was wondering if you could watch Henry for me tomorrow night. I have a late meeting and my usual sitter is away on vacation.” Furrowing her eyebrows, the blonde questioned the woman, “Why me?” It was a valid question. After all, who asks someone, whom they just met _that_ day–who also just got out of _prison_ –to watch their baby?

“Well, I’ve seen how you interacted with him. You’re a natural when it comes to children.” Emma couldn’t help but let out a mirthless snort at the comment. Continuing, Regina added, “And you need some sort of job to fill your requirements for staying in my town.”

 _‘Wow,’_ mused the blonde. _‘She’s really thought this thing through.’_ After further deliberation, Emma made her decision. “Alright,” the blonde promised. “I’ll be there.”

Smiling victoriously on her end of the line, Regina thanked the girl. “Great, come by my office sometime tomorrow for the details.” Leaving no time for the blonde to change her mind, the mayor hung up her phone.

Returning the landline device back to its holder, Emma sighed to herself, mulling over the conversation that had just transpired. The blonde dropped her head on her arms, which were crossed on top of the bar’s surface, then groaned, “What have I just gotten myself into.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next day went by quickly for Emma, most of it spent worrying about her plans later that evening with the mayor’s son. _‘What if something happens to the kid on my watch? I’m not cut out to be a parent.’_

Insecurities flooded the blonde’s mind as she waited patiently outside the mayor’s mansion. Seconds later, she could hear the light clack of heels coming from the other side of the door. Swinging the door open wide, Regina flashed the woman a polite smile as she welcomed the blonde into her home.

Stepping inside, Emma took in the many shades of black and greys within the mayor’s house. _‘This girl really likes black in white,’_ she noted, remembering how similar the theme was to the mayor’s office. Emma followed the woman into the living space, still no baby Henry in sight.

At the blonde’s confused expression, Regina explained, “Henry’s still sleeping in his crib. He had missed his routine nap during daycare, so he fell asleep on the car ride home. I couldn’t bring myself to wake him.” Nodding in response, Emma watched as the mayor poured herself a glass of apple cider.

Taking a sip, the brunette’s eyes met the blonde’s own hazel ones. Once she brought the glass away from her lips, she said, “I’d offer you one, too, but I’d rather you not drink on the job.” Emma shook her head quickly and responded, “Oh, I’m not of age.”

Regina seemed to be taken aback by the girl’s statement, having previously thought she was older. She really should have looked at her paperwork more closely. Sensing the brunette’s change in demeanor, Emma reassured the woman, “I am 18, though.” Regina nodded at the statement then led them to the kitchen.

“Here is Henry’s dinner,” she informed the blonde, referencing towards a small container of homemade baby food. “He’s not expected to eat it all, but if he eats most of it, I will be satisfied.” The brunette made her way to the fridge, displaying its contents in front of the blonde. “Here is where you can find his juice and milk. When you prepare the juice, be sure to fill half his cup with water.”

Emma nodded, letting the new information sink in, as Regina looked upon the girl in fascination. The blonde shifted uncomfortably under the brunette’s gaze, then met the woman’s eyes with hazel orbs. After the contact spanned longer than what was socially acceptable, Regina diverted her gaze to the digital clock on her stove.

Realizing that if she didn’t leave now she would be late, the brunette informed the blonde that it was time for her to leave. Emma walked the woman to the door then watched as her car left the driveway, the blonde still leaning against the door frame.

 _‘Yeah, I could get used to this,’_ Emma unconsciously mused to herself. Snapping herself out of her daydreams, she chided herself, _‘Swan, don’t start getting any ideas.’_ The blonde chuckled to herself in response. _‘Too late.’_

Before she could entertain the thought any further, she heard Henry’s baby monitor go off, signaling to her that the boy had awoken from his nap. _‘Uh oh. That’s my cue.’_

Grabbing the device from the side table, the blonde made her way up the stairs of the house. Having been given the general outline of the home via email from the mayor beforehand, she felt comfortable finding the boy’s room on her own.

When she approached the room, she felt a force of energy push against her, causing tears to accumulate in her eyes. Emma was taken back to when she had given birth to her son and how she imagine this exact room being where he ended up, she hoped.

Making her way hesitantly to the crying baby’s crib, she leaned over the railing and picked the boy up, holding him in her strong arms. Bouncing from side to side, she tried to soothe the kid. “It’s okay, Henry. Mommy will be back soon. Until then, you get to play with me. You can call me Emma.”

Staring into the blonde’s eyes, the boy calmed and Emma swore she felt as if, by that one look, the boy was staring right into her soul. Henry cooed at the girl, which resulted in the blonde grinning from ear to ear. _‘Maybe this whole babysitting thing isn’t as bad as I thought,’_ she admitted to herself.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of her time babysitting the child went by smoothly, save for a couple of clumsy moments on her part; first dropping her initial attempt at preparing a warm bottle for the boy, then accidently forgetting to make sure Henry was completely finished urinating before undoing his diaper. Yeah, that was not fun.

When Regina had returned home, frazzled and moody, she was grateful to hear that Henry had fallen asleep without fuss and had eaten all of his meal. Smiling at the blonde, the mayor thanked the girl.

“I really appreciate you being willing to take care of him. I know he can be quite the handful at times.” Emma nodded at the brunette’s statement then responded, “He’s a good kid, truly. I appreciated the opportunity.” Moving closer to the girl, Regina searched the blonde’s eyes.

Emma’s gaze then traveled downwards to the woman’s ruby lips and she unconsciously licked her own in response, the action not going unnoticed by the mayor. After the blonde brought her gaze back to the brunette’s intense caramel eyes, both woman jolted away from one another at the sound of the front door opening once again. Both women struggled to regain their composure, having not noticed that they had gotten so close, as a male figure made his way into the room.

“Regina, I,” the male began, only to be cut off by the sight of the blonde. “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t aware you had company,” he apologized genuinely.

“It’s alright, Graham,” the mayor reassured. “Miss Swan was just leaving.” Emma’s face dropped dejectedly at the woman’s formal use of her name. She had honestly led herself into believing that they had just shared a moment back then. A moment that had meant a lot to the blonde, but apparently not to the brunette. Who was this guy anyway, Emma wondered.

“Right,” the blonde spoke up as she quickly made her way to grab her coat then rushed out the door to her car, not bothering to say goodnight to the woman. Both Regina and Graham watched the blonde’s retreating form then the man turned back towards the mayor with a confused expression.

Before he could ask any questions, Regina attached her lips to his own. After the first initial shock, the man matched the woman’s pace then lifted her small form, carrying the brunette upstairs to her room.

 

The next morning, Regina woke up and her mind instantly filled with regret. Turning her head to the side, she caught the sight of the male sheriff next her in bed. Groaning to herself, the mayor lifted the covers from her naked form and grabbed her robe, covering herself. ‘ _This was going to be a long day,’_ Regina thought to herself.

 

As for Emma, when she woke up, she was pissed. She was pissed for many reasons: for letting herself get so worked up about Regina being with a guy– _‘I mean, she’s a young, beautiful woman. How could she_ not _have people lining up for her?’­_ –, for thinking she had a chance, and for leaving so unprofessionally and probably leading the woman to believe she was crazy. And maybe the assumption wasn’t that far off.

The blonde lazily got herself ready for another boring day then made her way downstairs to prepare a bowl of cereal for herself for breakfast. Once she was seated in front of her meal, she heard the house phone begin to ring.

Making her way over to the item, she picked it up from its holder and placed it to her hear. “Hello,” she greeted.

“Miss Swan, I forgot to give you your payment for last night,” came the mayor’s smooth voice. “If you can, please stop by my office sometime today to pick it up.”

Emma’s mouth had went dry from feeling caught off guard from the brunette’s call, so she swallowed a lump in her throat and responded a weak, “Okay, will do,” then hung up the phone.

 _‘This was going to be a long day,’_ mused the blonde.


End file.
